Why Watching ‘The Bachelor’ Is Like Eating a Diet Cupcake
‘The Bachelor’ has become an unsatisfying anachronism
I wouldn’t call myself a diehard member of Bachelor Nation, but I do enjoy watching the show. Before my friend got me hooked on it in 2016, I thought The Bachelor was, in a word, stupid. I thought it was trashy, cheesy, and uninteresting.
Well, I was right — at least in part. When I started watching the show, it was a bit trashy, a lot cheesy, but it wasn’t uninteresting. Every week, I had fun watching the contestants fight over whoever was lucky enough to be crowned the Bachelor or Bachelorette.
But that was 2016, and things were different. Now, in 2022, I find myself watching the episodes mechanically, as though it’s something I just need to check off my to-do list. I have trouble staying focused on what’s going on, instead of scrolling mindlessly through my phone (a bad habit, I know). The show just can’t seem to hold my attention much anymore — but I don’t think I’m alone in that.
I can’t help thinking The Bachelor is no longer edgy, interesting, unique, or even that dramatic. To put it plainly, The Bachelor has become an anachronism.
Social media changed the game
The Bachelor first aired in 2002. To put that in perspective, Myspace, one of the earliest heavily used social media platforms, didn’t come around until 2003. Back then, contestants on reality TV shows couldn’t count on a single appearance furnishing them with thousands of new followers. The phrase ‘fifteen minutes of fame was still accurate.
Now, even contestants who don’t make it past the first night can see their follower counts on platforms as Instagram explode. Those who are lucky enough to make it through a few episodes can literally launch careers hawking different endorsed products on Instagram, or even translate that fame into their own product lines.
This phenomenon causes contestants to be hyperaware of building their own ‘brand’, something that can endear them to viewers and make them money after their time on the show ends. This brand-building attitude might be a wise business decision, but it has the effect of making many of the contestants seem like Stepford Wives instead of real people, which heightens the unreality of the show and makes viewers feel even more distant.
What are ‘the right reasons’?
Nothing brings a promising contestant down faster than an accusation that he or she is not there for ‘the right reasons.’ On The Bachelor, motives are relentlessly interrogated, investigated, and weaponized. This seemed to make more sense before social media changed the game; now, even those who are seemingly there for ‘the right reasons — to find a husband or wife — can relish in watching their numbers of Instagram followers skyrocket. A contestant can profess to be there for ‘the right reasons and still launch a career after the show ends thanks to the exposure he or she receives. It has become much more difficult to tell who is telling the truth and who is lying for the cameras.
As if things weren’t already complicated enough, the show has made a move to cast smarter, more capable, more successful men and women in the role of Bachelor or Bachelorette. While this is undoubtedly a good look for the show, it creates a new problem. The smart, successful Bachelors and Bachelorettes are the ones who don’t stand for drama and snuff out any disputes early, making their seasons especially boring. As a result, all of the contestants who cause the drama we’re there to watch don’t make it very far. The entire premise of the show is undermined if the man or woman who is difficult or not there for ‘the right reasons’ wins the heart of the Bachelor or Bachelorette. It just doesn’t work.
Everything is formulaic
When drawn-out drama is no longer in the cards, all the show has left to lean on is its tried-and-true formula. There are the dinner dates with untouched food, the mid-level musicians booked for solo serenades, the helicopter rides around new cities, the firework displays just for the happy couples, and on and on — with every romantic cliché you can think of heaped into a date. It’s hard not to get bored watching what feels like the same date over and over again — especially when the conversation isn’t particularly varied, either.
All the contestants ever talk about is their feelings for each other, which is a tough sell considering they’ve barely had much time together. They jump into heavy discussions about serious things like their shared future, kids, and families, without having that foundation of fun and lighthearted flirtatiousness first, which, in my opinion, takes the fun out of a relationship. I wouldn’t talk about my feelings for someone, much less how many children I want, the first or second time I meet them, so why does it make sense for contestants on The Bachelor to do so? It doesn’t, and that’s part of the problem. When contestants do speak about something ‘real’ (their families, their lives, etc.) — it gets excessively promoted, then distilled into sound bites of something ‘raw’ enough to make the viewers think a real connection has been made.
What’s between real and unreal?
Speaking of real, it’s difficult to say The Bachelor still wears the ‘reality TV’ label. This fantasy-driven, over-manufactured, saccharine serving of ‘true love’ feels as real as a Photoshopped, over-filtered Instagram photo. It’s not real life, and it feels out of touch with the times now more than ever, especially when a quick peeks at contestants’ Instagram feeds can show if the couples are still together after the show ends. There’s a low success rate, and that’s for a reason. It’s hard to fall in love after spending barely 24 hours with someone when you’re both trying so hard to be your ‘best selves’ and only show your most photogenic flaws. As a result, none of the contestants seem like real people — they’re all on pedestals, and when they fall, they fall hard.
The Bachelor feels like a frosting-topped lie, like a diet cupcake. The show exists in a liminal space between reality and unreality; it’s too scripted and formulaic to be real, but not polished enough to be completely unreal. Like the diet cupcake, the show exists somewhere between diet and junk. It’s food, but it’s completely insubstantial and unsatisfying and leaves a sour taste in your mouth. When you’re done with it, you’re still hungry for something real.
Shifting away from the fantasy
With historically low ratings, the scandal-embroiled departure of the show’s longtime host Chris Harrison, and all of the other aforementioned cracks in The Bachelor’s foundation, I wouldn’t be surprised if the show peters out in the next few years.
Personally, I find shows like Too Hot to Handle more interesting because people are very clear and upfront about their motives — “I’m here for fun wink.” If genuine feelings develop, that’s a bonus — giving people less incentive to be fake. There are no ‘right reasons’ for being on that show, which takes that entire narrative out of play. I think as viewership for The Bachelor continues to decline, we’ll see more shows like Too Hot to Handle take center stage — because when I want junk food, I at least want it to taste good.





